My First Soccer Game
Miguel, Age 12, Richmond, CA

Who will win the game? One Early morning it was dark winter. I saw my team warming up. They were sweating like a drinking fountain. I heard my cleats going click click click click. It was a hot day. I smelled the green grass. I tasted the beautiful flowers. I felt that we were gonna win the game. I was running as fast as a cheetah. My dad told me he would give me five dollars for each goal that I made. I said, “OK.”

There was a male. He looked like he was thirteen. He was tall like a giraffe. He was skinny. He had black hair. He was white like a bunny. He had brown eyes. He was cool. He seemed to be saying, “I want to make a goal.” He said, “Good luck.” Since the game was about to start, I couldn't go to the bathroom anymore.

I saw the ref getting ready for the game. My team was ready for the game. I heard my dad saying, “Go, Miguel.” It was getting colder. I tasted the pizza we’d have it we won.
There was this woman. She was about thirteen years old. She was supper skinny. She had orange hair. She was white. She had blue eyes. She was cool. She was wearing blue shorts. She seemed to be saying, “You’re handsome.” And I told her that I don’t like to play baseball but soccer I do.

I saw that my team had made a goal. They were happy. I could hear my dad saying, “Good job.” Everybody was burnt from the sun. I was nervous that they would make a goal. I felt that we were gonna win the game. I went across the field and made a goal.

The game was over, and we won 2-1. I was happy. Since we won, we were happy. But there was this boy that got mad at me. He was twelve and he was supper skinny and he had blue eyes. He had brown hair. He was ugly. He seemed to be saying, “You’re ugly.” My dad said, “Good job. Want to go to McDonald's?” I said, “Yes, but you own me five dollars.” He started laughing. 

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